


Not Your Choice

by DarkReyna16



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Gen, content etiquette, miraculousblackout, reposting is bad kids, reposting to give someone exposure without their permission is not a thing, stop it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkReyna16/pseuds/DarkReyna16
Summary: Marinette runs into a headache from the past and gets the chance to confront someone who had done her wrong under the guise of "getting her exposure."





	Not Your Choice

**Author's Note:**

> Don't you HATE it when someone takes something you made without permission, and when you confront them, they claim that they were just trying to "get you more exposure"?
> 
> Yeah. I do, too.
> 
> This is a one-shot depicting the frustrations a situation like that brings up in people like me.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> ~Reyna

The sound of coins hitting the ground distracted Marinette from her grocery list, doubled with the large coin that hit the side of her shoe. There was muffled grumbling behind her--clearly someone was having a clumsy moment, and was not happy about it. Marinette could totally relate.

She bent down, grabbing the coin and turning around.

“Here you go.”

“Oh, thank--” The woman straightened up and paused, the shock that crossed her face echoing Marinette’s once she got a good look at the woman before her.

Ugh. And she had been having such a good day...

“...Symone,” she said, working to at least be civil (though it was more than Symone deserved), holding out the dropped coin for Symone to take. Symone sniffed, snatching the coin back as she straightened her blazer, smoothing out the sleeves as if she wished to intimidate Marinette with her expensive wardrobe.

“ _Well_ , if it isn’t the investor stealer,” she drawled, inspecting her nails like Marinette was beneath her notice. “I’m certain you’re rather pleased with yourself, now aren’t you?”

Marinette suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. She didn’t have time to indulge in Symone’s bitterness; she just wanted to get home, make dinner, and hopefully get a good night’s sleep for once.

“Have a nice day, Symone,” she wished, grinding the words out through her teeth as she turned on her heel to move to a new section of the grocery store, determined to put her past behind her--

“I hear you’re working in your parents’ bakery now. _Very_ glamorous. Congratulations.”

...So they were going to play _this_ game, were they...?

“Actually,” Marinette began, fixing a smile on her face as she turned back to face Symone, “I’ll be opening my own boutique soon. Someone took an interest in my Miraculous fashion line and decided to invest--Amara Sainte de-Couquille, maybe you’ve heard of her?”

Symone’s vindictive expression dropped along with the name Marinette just uttered, and for a moment, she just stared as if Marinette had appeared from thin air in nothing but a barrel with a broken potted plant on her head.

“That...there’s no way...you’re lying,” she asserted after a moment. Marinette shrugged, smirking now.

“You don’t have to believe me. Doesn’t change the truth.” Again, she turned and began to walk away, wanting to leave things at that, but--

“You never would have made it this far without me, you know! The only reason you’re successful now is because you got lucky!”

Marinette paused, making herself take a deep, slow breath.

‘ _Walk away, girl,’_ Alya’s voice warned in her mind. ‘ _She’s only looking to pick a fight because she’s bitter. Giving her your attention isn’t worth it.’_

She had a point--Symone was only looking to unleash her frustrations with her own career on Marinette. She blamed Marinette for stealing Adrien as an investor, and it was clear that she was still bitter about Marinette refusing to let her use her designs anymore. Marinette knew that. She knew arguing with Symone was potentially useless.

...But even so...

Marinette slowly turned back around, chewing on her tongue as she worked out what to say to that infuriating triumphant gleam in Symone’s eyes.

She wanted to do this now? Fine. But she was going to regret starting this argument. Marinette would make sure of it.

“...While it’s true that luck might have had something to do with it...”

There was a tiny nudge from her pocket, and Marinette repressed a smile, focusing only on Symone, and the desire to take her down a peg or two...or several.

“...I don’t owe you anything, Symone,” Marinette made clear, standing tall. “The only thing I credit you for is my distrust of letting anyone see my sketchbook ever again before I’m finished with my designs. I wish I had never given you permission to use them in the first place.”

Symone rolled her eyes.

“Please--I was the best thing that ever happened to your designs. Through me, your designs would have gained a _lot_ more exposure than that silly street show you had a few weeks ago.”

Marinette’s eyes flashed. She didn’t care that Symone was bitter--that show meant a lot to her, and she would _not_ let her former boss’ ego taint that, too!

“You weren’t interested in giving me exposure,” Marinette asserted, taking a step forward as she glared at Symone. “You were only interested in the attention it would get _you._ ”

“No one has even _heard_ of you until recently! I was doing you a _favor!”  
_

“By _removing my signature_ from my _own work_ even _after_ I withdrew my permission for you to use it?!”

“I never--”

“Adrien _told_ me you were trying to use my designs after I quit!” Marinette cut off Symone’s lie, tightly folding her arms. “You had edited my signature out and tried to sell _my_ designs to him as your _own!_ Don’t pretend you were trying to _help_ me, Symone! Your reasons were entirely selfish, and you know it!”

Color rose in Symone’s cheeks as the people nearest them began to stare and whisper. She cleared her throat and straightened up, adjusting her blazer once again.

“Well, clearly, you can’t understand just how much I was risking for you,” Symone sniffed, and Marinette wondered at her ability to still remain self-righteous when she was clearly in the wrong. “Claiming your designs as my own could have ended very badly for me; I was doing it to protect your future career--”

“Oh _please,_ ” Marinette cut her off with a roll of her eyes. “If you _actually_ cared about my career, you would have marketed my designs as _my_ designs. Just stop, Symone,” she insisted when her former boss opened her mouth once again. “Your argument is flimsy; you’re just embarrassing yourself.”

“How dare you!” Symone hissed, looking outraged at Marinette’s audacity. “After all I’ve done for you--!”

“That’s in the past,” Marinette concluded, talking over Symone the way she had talked over Marinette so many times before, back in the days when Marinette would have given _anything_ to get Symone to recognize her talent...but now, she didn’t see a fashion icon, or a former idol. All she saw now was a leech, someone who was willing to screw her over for a little bit more of fame and glory. And honestly, Marinette didn’t need a person who didn’t respect artist integrity in her life. “You aren’t entitled to anything I’ve created, Symone. Nor are you entitled to my recognition. In fact, you’re not entitled to _anything_ from me. So just walk away.”

Marinette herself would leave, but she had already tried twice, only to be called back by Symone. Clearly, the only way this conversation was ending was if Symone left first. And so Marinette stood there, her arms crossed, her head held high, an eyebrow arched. Waiting.

Symone’s face was completely red now, her expression twisted. She opened her mouth several times, no doubt to say something nasty, but it was like she had been robbed of her voice; after a couple minutes of tense silence, she gave a huff and turned on her heel, stomping away, ordering people who had been discreetly watching the spectacle to get out of her way. Marinette watched her go, taking another cleansing breath before she turned and went about her business, a small, victorious smirk in place.

It had drained her to have that conversation with Symone, especially since she knew--though Symone’s pride had certainly taken a hit--that Symone would probably never view what she did as wrong, even though Chloé Bourgeois had done the _same exact thing to her,_ once upon a time. Honestly, Marinette marveled at how someone could have their head so far up their ass that they couldn’t open their eyes and see how they were hurting others.

But she resolved to put the matter behind her. Symone’s immaturity issues were not her problem, and in hindsight, Marinette probably shouldn’t have deigned to give the woman the time of day, after everything she had put Marinette through.

But _damn_ did it feel good anyway.

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> I stand in solidarity with the creators of this fandom, who have had enough of the content theft in this fandom. And, as someone who has had the unpleasant experience of finding my most popular ML fic reposted to another site without my permission, this is also personal for me.
> 
> This movement is important to me, so I will not be updating any of my fics until the blackout is over. If you want more information, I encourage you to go to the tumblr link above to see what we're all about.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> ~Reyna


End file.
